The Water Alchemist

A Matter Of Trust

Welcome back to The Water Alchemist. I don't own any of the intellectual property of Fullmetal Alchemist.

Chapter Fifty-One

A Matter Of Trust

***

"Ah, that felt good," Ed sighed, twisting his wrist, the creaking metal grating as it moved.

He glanced at me, giving me a sly grin, which I couldn't help but return. I did try to take on a meaningful look after, something along the lines of saying you got it out of your system, but now we've got work to do, but it was hard to keep an even visage seeing that dopey, beautiful grin of his. I'd been deprived of his smiling face for so long; letting him hit his father just once to see it again was worth it. Equivalent exchange, right?

"You could've at least warned me you were about to slug me! And with your metal hand, too," Hohenheim whined, nursing his cheek. He groaned, moving to stand, dusting his pants, gazing up at us. As he approached, that feeling in the pit of my stomach intensified, going from a dull awareness of its presence to a prominent throb. I tried to ignore it as he addressed us. "I see you've made a new group of friends." Darius looked around a moment.

"We're not—"

"It's more like we're all in the same sinking ship," Heinkel corrected, finding the words Darius lacked.

"That's right," Greedling said, jerking his thumb at his chest. "And I guess you could say I'm the captain of that ship."

"So, you're the one in charge? Then I'd like to thank you for looking after my son," Hohenheim said with the slightest of bows. Greedling grinned, obviously pleased by the small show of gratitude. Any semblance of power he had over others made him nearly giddy.

"Sure, but you know he can be a real pain in the ass," Greedling said, jerking his chin to Ed, who flared.

"Hey!" Ed yelled, disgruntled. I tapped my hand over his shoulder consolingly, and he crossed his arms in a huff, quietly fuming as Hohenheim's eyes tracked over me.

"Good to see you again too, young lady," he said, quite warmly, and I nodded, managing a smile despite my surprise. Considering how I'd spoken to him the last we met, I didn't think he'd be so cordial. "Still a spitfire?" I froze, my blood running cold at the irony of it all. The man always seemed to see right through me. I shook my head slightly and noted Ed's glare, directed at his father.

"A lot has happened since we last met," Ed grumbled, and Hohenheim seemed to understand not to press his son further on the topic, unavoidable as it was. He instead took note of Greedling's hand.

"That's an interesting tattoo," he remarked.

"Yeah, you noticed. Guess there's no point in hiding it," Greedling said, straightening, resting his hand over his hip, appraising Hohenheim. "But let's make this honesty thing mutual, pops."

"Look, we need to talk. The Promised Day is tomorrow," Ed said, and I took an uneven breath. I knew how little time we had – it was hard to not think about it – but hearing it aloud was enough to put me on edge, to put everyone on guard.

"Fair enough. I'll tell you everything," Hohenheim promised. And he kept his word. We gathered at the small fire pit he occupied, exchanging information well into the night. While Ed and Greedling explained my condition and our intelligence, I partly listened and partly worked at further decoding my father's notes. But as soon as it was Hohenheim's turn to speak, I couldn't focus. I could only listen to his tale, the fate of his people, the man he'd become. It was difficult to digest, and the information settled uncomfortably within me. Some of it refreshed what I'd remembered, and some of it was wholly news to me. Heinkel and Darius looked quite disturbed by what Hohenheim had to say, and Greedling was tense beside me, a bead of sweat forming at his brow, though his face was stony. Ed took it hardest as his father finished, curling in on himself, letting out a distressed sound as he gripped a fistful of hair in his hand, pulling at the root. I wanted to reach for him, my hand moving on its own, but I caught Hoheinheim's eye as I did, and I retracted, not sure how Ed would feel about his father knowing about us. I instead folded my hands over my father's work. It was all I could do to keep from reaching out to Ed, my heart aching for him. Hohenheim stared into the fire, the reflection of orange and yellow hues dancing off his glasses. "I was worried this might be more difficult for you to accept than it was for Alphonse."